


Told me you were doing fine

by mystic_hyacinth



Series: Adoration, Exploration, Absolution [2]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Begging, Business Trip, Established Relationship, Fantasizing, Intercrural Sex, Lonely Peter, M/M, May cause dysphoria, Pet Names, Peter Parker is a Mess, Phone Sex, Sex Toys, Sweet Tony Stark, Trans Character, Trans Male Character, Trans Peter Parker, Vaginal Fingering, Voice Kink, mentioned - Freeform, mentions of frottage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-03
Updated: 2019-09-03
Packaged: 2020-09-23 08:38:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,839
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20337262
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mystic_hyacinth/pseuds/mystic_hyacinth
Summary: Peter could listen to Tony talk for hours.





	Told me you were doing fine

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys! Today's my first day of school so I wanted to post something before things get a little crazy, sorry if it's rushed ^.^'. I'll try and make my posting schedule consistent with about 1 - 2 fics per month, but if something comes up I will let you guys know over on my tumblr: @plentyokenty. Otherwise, enjoy!
> 
> Title is taken from 'Little Wanderer' by the Death Cab for Cutie, fic was also partially inspired by this video: https://www.pornhub.com/view_video.php?viewkey=ph5be394fb7cff1

It was usually nights like this where Peter could sleep like the dead. After hours of school, Decathlon practice and saving Brooklyn just in time to finish his homework, he would trudge the few feet from his desk to his bed and drop from exhaustion so he would be rested enough to do it all over again the next day.

Still, tonight was never going to be one of those nights. His normal routine was disrupted because the one part of his world that was always constant was knowing that the big, gaudy building in Midtown would hold the occupant whose last name it bore on its facade. If everyone felt how Peter was feeling at this exact moment, there would be mourning and crying in the streets from Inwood to East Village. The trains would stop running, the lights in the city would dim ever so slightly in respect and all of New York would wait with bated breath for Tony Stark to return home.

Peter sighed, trying his best not to be dramatic as he fell into bed. New York probably didn’t know Tony was gone. Everyone would go about their lives not knowing that the leader of the Avengers would be overseas on business for the next two weeks. Even if to those closest to him, Tony’s whereabouts were anything but secret, it made Peter feel just a little special thinking that it would be the soft lampglow of his bedroom to keep vigil for Tony until he came home, the sole lighthouse amidst a dark and roiling sea.

Peter tried to quiet his racing thoughts and tell himself that the reason he was so antsy was because of school and everything a normal kid was supposed to be worried about. No kid in any of his classes lost any sleep knowing that their mentor/secret lover was how many thousands of miles away. 

Then again, no kid in any of his classes or possibly ever had someone like Tony Stark to call their own.

Yet here Peter was, sticking to his bedsheets with nervous sweat, the rushing blood in his ears drowning out the noises on the street down below. He sighed and rolled over so that he was facing the window, the hazy night sky gazing back at him.

_ What if Tony loses sleep over me? _

Peter glanced at his phone. No new calls or texts (not directly at him, anyway, the Decathlon group chat stayed blowing up even into the wee hours of the morning) to speak of. He switched over to his text threads with Mr. Stark, hoping desperately that maybe his phone notifications were just blatantly ignoring one of the people he talked to the most and that Mr. Stark had been messaging him for days and Peter was too stupid to actually check. 

** _[[How’s Tokyo?]]_ **

** _[[Beautiful. It would be even better if you stopped texting in class.]]_ **

** _[[But we’re not even doing anything!!]]_ **

** _ [[The rules still apply to you, spiderling.]]_ **

It was gentle chides like that that sent Peter’s heart into overdrive. A whole day had passed since that string of texts and Peter with all his lovesickness and lack of self control, had barely weathered it. He kicked himself for his immaturity, trying to remind himself that Mr. Stark had other things to do besides sit around and talk to him. He was away on business, whatever that meant. 

Peter tried (and failed) to close his eyes again, ground himself to his bed and not in some fancy hotel with Mr. Stark in Tokyo.

The cruelest part of all of it would be that if he were to fall asleep and dream tonight, Mr. Stark would be there - only for it all to dissipate when tomorrow came. Peter bunched up the sheets at his chest and hoped he dreamt of nothing. 

Eyes closed. Breathing steady. Just try and sleep. 

The harsh buzzing of the phone next to him made him turn over, hoping against hope that maybe Mr. Stark hadn’t forgotten about him. When his vision focused enough and he got a good look at the caller ID, Peter all but ripped his phone from its charger as he grabbed for it, sliding the answer button over with frantic hands. “Hello?”

“Hey, kid. Just letting you know I’m still here. What’s up?” Mr. Stark spoke quickly, chopping down his words as though someone was chasing him. 

Like always. 

The teen laughed because of course Mr. Stark would play this cool and treat it as though they had just met up for coffee hours ago and he was only calling to make sure the kid had gotten home before dark. “Shouldn’t you be busy?” Peter knew he was lying through his teeth, feigning coyness in attempt to make it seem like he hadn’t been the only thing on his mind for that grueling twenty-four hours. 

“Had some time to myself, I don’t really have to be anywhere until maybe six.” said the older man with his usual coolness. “It’s a school night for you, isn’t it?”

“Heh, yeah.” he said, voice a little rough from disuse (or maybe all the vocal training was actually starting to work). “Can’t really sleep.”

“Poor thing hasn’t discovered melatonin yet.” Tony said with mock sympathy. “What’s been eating you?” 

Peter bunched his hands in the sheets again. “I’ve been fine, really.” 

There was a pause from the other end and Peter feared maybe the signal had failed, only to have Mr. Stark’s voice somehow closer to the microphone, the husk of it seeming to seep out of the device and encompass every corner to the tiny bedroom, smushing poor Peter inside.

“I’m alright, really.” he said, a thick swallow betraying him. 

There was the sound of rustling and a deep sigh as Tony seemed to be settling in. “You’re a wreck, aren’t you?”

Guilt swelled up in Peter and he blurted out _ , ‘I’m alright!’  _ before he could really stop himself. 

“I’m okay, really. It’s just a lot of stress I’m under right now with school and stuff.”

“Huh,” Tony hummed, not buying it for a minute. “Stress with school, he says. That’s not like you, you know. Most stuff with school I’ve ever seen you stressed out about was when your friend got sick a few weeks before that competition of yours.”

“That was serious, he had a tapeworm!” Peter all but hissed, trying to stall in order to buy himself time to come up with a better comeback. “It’s just a lot going on right now, Mr. Stark. I’m glad you called.”

“Always at your service.” said Tony and Peter breathed a short sigh of relief. “Didn’t think I was the type who could calm anyone.”

“It’s the voice, I think.” whispered the teen. “It’s um - stabilizing, I guess.”

There was a short chuckle. “Stabilizing? Me?”

“It’s true, kinda - makes me feel grounded or something. I’m no good with words.” he said it all in one breath, hoping Mr. Stark would speak up again if only just to get the man to ask him to repeat what he’d said.

After a beat, the man talked. “You want me to talk about the trip, then?”

Peter’s heart leapt in his throat, “Something like that.”

Mr. Stark sipped something on the other end of the phone before recounting the story of the last twenty-four hours.

Deep-down, there was a part of Peter that felt so pathetic. He’d lost track of the tale Mr. Stark was spinning a few minutes in as he instead allowed himself to finally relax after a day of tension, half-listening to his mentor’s words. Mr. So-so was completely unreasonable and Miss Whatever-Her-Name-Was seemed to be the only voice of reason (besides Mr. Stark, of course) in room of two dozen. There was a metaphor or two in there about people being greedy and never cleaning up after themselves when they made a mess, along with several little quips as the older man tried to make light of a clearly stressful situation. He would listen with intent to everything Mr. Stark had to say, no matter how mundane. The last few days had left his ears buzzing for need of noise - Tony’s noise - he didn’t care what form it came in.

The teen couldn’t remember ever putting the phone down, but when he finally came back to himself, the phone was resting by his ear on the pillow with his hands left out to roam. With every clearing of Tony’s throat or dip in the man’s voice, the boy tried to imitate the touch to match the sound. Snappy little jokes brought with them hands tracing up and down the boy’s chest and sides, fast sentences begot the teasing of nipples with bony fingers, clumsy copied movements of the sturdy ones that Peter knew so well. He tried to hold in the short little gasps, allow his mind to romp in shameful silence. Mr. Stark would never need to know if he didn’t want him to.

It wasn’t until Peter’s finger landed on his sensitive outer folds that his voice betrayed him, letting out a soft, tiny whine.

Mortification spread across the teen’s face as he cleared his throat, trying to pass the noise off as just the creaking of his bed or the scuttling of mice in the walls or _ something else other than what it actually was _ .

“Shall I go on?” asked Mr. Stark, cutting through Peter’s rapid fire apologies. The boy all but winced, looking down at his body through the darkness of his covers. Tony had to have heard him and he was just letting him go like that? Like it was nothing?

“N-no, Mr. Stark, Tony - it’s fine. You’ve done enough, really.”

“Pete.” Mr. Stark's voice was at a stern huff and it sent shivers through the teen. “Do you want me to keep talking?”

His words were loaded and even Peter couldn’t deny what Mr. Stark was drawing him into (or what  _ he _ was drawing Mr. Stark into?). The boy breathed in deep and muttered for the older man to hold on a second. He all but leapt down from his bed and went to check the door, heart hammering with anticipation the whole way. Phone sex? Was that what he was about to do? He thought it was just something that happened in old movies (MJ had mentioned all the good phone sex lines were gone these days, killed by the internet, though Ned had told her that camgirls and camboys were just a continuation of it, Peter had remained beet red and silent the whole lunch period) yet here he was, about to get off to his mentor's voice over the phone that his aunt paid for.

Poor May.

Peter ran back to his bed to whisper another apology to Tony, hurrying to find what he was looking for before the man lost his patience. 

At the bottom of one of his dresser drawers lived the toy and a half-empty bottle of lube, wrapped up in paper towels and enclosed in a fancy old perfume box that May had given to him years ago (he had yet to remember where the hell the actual perfume was). Tony had told him the vibrator was supposed to be for beginners (at least when Tony wasn’t there with his magical fingers or amazing tongue) but with girth like that, Peter wasn’t sure if he’d ever reach advanced level dick-taking. 

“Okay, I’m back.” Peter sighed, falling back into bed with the box still in his hand.

“Took you long enough.” Tony chuckled. “Now where was I?” Peter listened as the man went off on another tangent, this time it was an update about some ongoing drama that had started before he’d left for Japan. Peter managed to get the first few words before getting altogether lost in the touching and teasing he was giving himself. Tony, now well-aware of the situation, spoke accordingly. Certain words were drawn out, some letters given extra emphasis and each sentence was punctuated with something akin to a growl.

Peter tried to steady his hands as they rubbed slowly at his clit, sighing out as Mr. Stark’s voice seemed to be growing closer and closer with every word. He circled the little protrusion softly before hooking a finger inside, mouth falling open in a silent moan. His other hand switched quickly between his nipples, teasing them each in time with the movements of the hand on his cunt.

“M-Mr. Stark...” the boy moaned, trying to slow himself down and savor this.

“Yes?” Tony said, hardly breaking his composure. For all Peter knew, he could be rock hard and stroking himself to the thought of Peter getting off on his voice. Tony was subtle like that (when he wanted to be, at least).

Wavering hands reached towards the perfume box while frantic ones continued to tease and message the boy’s pussy, smearing the oncoming wetness around for a few moments before going to squirt a bit of lube on the toy. 

The boy could of swore in his foggy mind he heard Mr. Stark moan his name, muttering how good he was doing and how much he missed him. Peter gasped as he rubbed the toy along his outer folds, nudging his clit just slightly. It reminded him of those times were Mr. Stark would rub between his thighs, rile him up and wreck him with just the feeling of his cock pressed up against him like this. hadn’t gone inside just yet, the teen would tell him when he was ready for that. That didn’t stop him from imagining when he had his toy, fantasizing that the buzzing silicone halfway inside him was his mentor. 

One day, he told himself. For now, he had his toy and Mr. Stark’s voice and he would just have to make do. 

When Peter finally turned the vibrator on, he barely had enough time to cover his mouth before the moan fell out of it. He nudged the tip against his clit as he pushed the toy deeper inside, allowing the pleasure to distract from that distinct stretch and burn that came whenever he did this. 

He could hear the smile in Mr. Stark’s voice as he tried to stifle his moans, pulling the toy out slowly. 

The man was definitely going heavy on the bass now, making every word sounds like it was drenched in fuzzy reverb. The teen hissed at the feeling of his abused nipples scratching against the rough cotton of his sheets, wishing it was Mr. Stark’s teeth biting down or his nails pinching him. Every feeling was that of wanting and wishing that Tony could be there, that the disembodied voice halfway across the world would come back to the cramped little apartment and make this ache go away. 

Peter begged softly, as if Mr. Stark were there teasing him. The man had the gaul to goad him, whispering “What’s wrong, baby? Are you close?” in his ear as though he could do something about it. The boy keened out of frustration, only able to push half of the toy inside himself before it started to hurt but making it work nonetheless. “Mr. Stark, I - I can’t.”

“You wish I was there?” Mr. Stark huffed. “You wish I was there to tease you like that?” Peter could only whine in response, working his hands faster. “You’re so worked up baby.” Tony tutted his tongue. “You miss me that bad?”

“_Y-yes, God, yes._” Peter strained, raising his hips to get a better angle and muffling his moans once he did. “Please, please  _ Tony _ \- “

“Go ahead, nobody’s stopping you.” he breathed. “Go on, baby, do it.”

Peter was off, rocking his hips down on the toy as he twitched around it. His hair was slicked to his forehead and his entire body was prickly and hot. Still, he let the waves of his orgasm carry him, waiting until he could actually hear Mr. Stark’s voice over the hazy din of his own afterglow.

“Made out alright, spiderling?” he asked, his voice returning to normal.

He gave a breathless ‘yeah’, chest still heaving as he started to clean the toy and limp back over to the dresser to put it away. “That was - that was good.”

“Pleasure’s all mine.” the man teased, mimicking his earlier growl. It was enough to make the boy’s cunt twitch ever so slightly. “What are you gonna do now?” 

“I should get some sleep.” the boy sighed, wiping the sweat off his face and pulling up his boxers. “And you should get back to doing your businessy stuff.”

“Who said you could order me around?”

“To be fair, if you didn’t like it you wouldn’t let me do it.” he laughed a little, relishing in the sound of Tony’s own laughter joining him. “You’ll be back soon?”

“Not soon enough.” Tony groaned. “I’ll call you if I need anything.”

Peter could almost feel the wink over the phone. “Me too.”

  
  
  



End file.
